Valentine's Day
by buzzlightyearr
Summary: A series of love themed one-shots in honor of valentine's day!
1. Remember When

Title: Remember When

Pairing: Gerald/Phoebe

Prompt: When I first saw her I didn't really see her, just the pile of books she was carrying.

* * *

 **AN** : I wanted to write a series of love themed one-shots for Valentine's Day. I used prompts from Pinterest and tried to create a story from them. I hope that you enjoy this series.

* * *

When I first saw her, I didn't really see her. All I could really see was the pile of books she was carrying. Her eyes, along with the frames of her glasses were struggling to see over the top of the large pile. I remember wondering to myself, what on earth a sixteen year old girl was doing with all of these books.

Then the books started to topple over, I raced over to reach her in time. Before I knew it, there was a pile of books all over the Hillwood Central High School hallway and there was a girl staring back at me. Her hair was short and jet black and she had the most beautiful light brown almond eyes that I just couldn't stop looking into.

I remembered a similar scene when I first met her. We were four years old at Urban Tots preschool, she was carrying a pile of books—chapter books, books far too advanced for the average four year old but she read them with ease. I remembered, even at four years old being absolutely fascinated by Phoebe Heyerdahl—and that feeling returned the day in the hallway.

"Please, let me help you with that." I said, struggling get the words out. Although we grew up in similar circles, as the years went on our circles moved further and further apart, to the point where we had close to nothing keeping us together. She was the President of the Debate Club, worried about making her college applications look well balanced. Me on the other hand, I was the star of the basketball team—my only worries were staying in shape and maintaining my popularity. However, as I stared into her eyes it was as though a magnet kept pulling me closer.

"Gerald—you don't have to, I can manage it." Phoebe pleaded, we were both on our knees, gathering the books from the hallway, when our hands brushed against each other. That one touch sent shivers down my spine, it was inexplicable.

"This is going to sound crazy—but are you free this Friday night?" I asked, holding half of the books in one hand, with my other hand outreached to help Phoebe up. My heart raced as I waited for a response.

"I think that could be arranged." Phoebe responded, with a slight smile. My heart and stomach were doing back flips. It's not like I was new to the dating world, I was sixteen years old at the time and I had been on my fair share of dates—but none like this.

I was determined to make our first date special, I arranged for dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant, Bella Roma—followed by a sophisticated outing at our local theatre. I picked her up in my red corvette, given to me by my older brother Jamie-O. I wore the best outfit that I had, an all-black suit that I reserved for special occasions. When she walked out of the house, she was breathtaking—her short black hair was lightly curled, her petite frame was adorned in a beautiful blue dress and it was the first time since we were children that I had seen her without her signature cat eye glasses.

Unfortunately, my plans for creating a perfect first date didn't go accordingly. My reservation for Bella Roma was bumped and instead of having a beautiful dinner at an Italian restaurant, we ended up dining outside of Gino's Souvlaki Stand to make sure we made it to the theater in time. Even worse, my attempt of a sophisticated theatre date ended up being ruined. I hadn't seen a play since I was in the fourth grade—I assumed that if it was showing at the local theatre, it had to be a good play. I couldn't have been more wrong as I looked over to see my date yawning at the end of Act One.

I had my hands in my pocket, looking down at the ground as we headed back to my car. My impressive date, was anything but. I figured I had ruined my chances with this wonderful girl. When the date was over, she would go back to her world and I would go back to mine.

"I'm sorry about tonight." I admitted.

"Tonight has been very interesting, but you have nothing to apologize for." Phoebe attempted to console me.

"I'm just—pretty nervous." I confessed, I had nothing left to lose.

"Why don't you just take me where you feel most comfortable?" Phoebe suggested.

We climbed into my car. There was only one place in Hillwood that made me feel completely comfortable. We pulled up to the large building and I grabbed her hand as we walked into the dark, empty room.

"Are you certain that we're allowed to be here at this hour?" Phoebe asked nervously, I struggled to find the light against the wall. When the lights finally flickered on, it revealed the school gymnasium.

"Coach encourages us to come in any time before midnight—although, I'm probably the only one that takes advantage of it." I divulged.

"So, this is where you come to clear your head?" She asked, her eyes wide and curious.

"Yeah—I don't know what it is, but even when this place is completely packed—it just feels like I'm in my element."

Phoebe spotted a ball nearby and bounce passed it to me.

"Well, I don't know much about basketball but how about a game of one-on-one." Phoebe smiled towards me. My heart fluttered and my stomach was doing flips but I was able to contain it.

"How about horse?" I offered as an alternative, bouncing the ball back to Phoebe, when to my surprise she took her low heels and kicked them off to the side. She tossed the ball underhanded from the free throw line—and to my surprise she made it.

"You're on." She winked at me.

Before I knew it our simple game was over and we were sitting in the middle of the basketball court reminiscing about the years after our group split up. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was nearing midnight—I didn't want the night to end but I had no choice.

"I had a really fun time tonight Gerald." She told me and the look in her eyes told me that she was being honest. She started to walk towards her door but I couldn't let her go. I grabbed her arm and she turned around to face me—emboldened by the turn of the night's events I gently caressed the sides of her face before tilting my head and touching my lips to hers.

Although the kiss was brief, it sent fireworks off in my mind. I knew that I was only sixteen, but I was confident that this was the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with—and the rest of course is history.

" _Dad_ —how many times are you going to tell us this story?" Gerald's twelve year old son asked with an exasperated look on his face.

Gerald looked over at his wife, her jet black hair pulled into an effortless bun as she held their four year old daughter on her lap. She caught her husband looking lovingly at her, as she often did, and flashed him an adoring grin.

"I'll stop telling it when your mother's smile stops making my heart flutter—so at this rate, you're stuck hearing this story for the rest of your life bud!" Gerald chuckled and Phoebe stifled a giggle. Gerald looked around the living room at his family, he couldn't imagine anything being better than this.


	2. Reunited

Title: Reunited

Pairing: Helga/Arnold

Prompt: He found the journal on the train.

* * *

 **AN** : I wanted to write a series of love themed one-shots for Valentine's Day. I used prompts from Pinterest and tried to create a story from them. I may have to toy with this one a bit. I love the prompt because it immediately made me think of Arnold and Helga when I read it—but this one was hard for me to write for some reason. I hope that you enjoy it all the same!

* * *

Arnold had been away from Hillwood since he was 11 years old, he'd only been back for two weeks and was struggling to get used to the hustle and bustle of the city. Everything moved so much faster here than he was used to in San Lorenzo.

He'd accepted a teaching position at P.S. 113 as a 5th grade History teacher. He was exhausted, heading underground to the subway that would transport him back to his home on the other side of town. It was Friday and 5 o'clock in the afternoon, rush hour, nearly every train was full. People were brushing past him as he struggled to find his place on the subway.

"Hey kid, get your head out of the clouds!" He heard a gruff voice remark. With a lot of luck, most of the people in his car were exiting not entering giving him the opportunity to rest his tired feet if only for a few moments. He noticed a leather bound, pink journal sitting on an empty seat. His train ride was usually about twenty minutes, he was hoping this book would be more interesting than the history homework in his messenger waiting to be graded.

The subway jolted him slightly forward as it departed from the station. Arnold opened up into the middle of the pages—he was taken aback at how beautifully written the musings were. The pink journal was filled with lots of poetry and story ideas. He noticed that many of the recurring themes were about lost love and angst. He heard his stop being called overhead, so he dropped the journal into his messenger bag before heading home, his studio apartment was only a block away from the subway station.

He dropped his bags onto the coffee table of his living space, pulled out the pink journal again and read it from cover to cover, only a few pages of the journal remained to be filled. On the last page, were initials: HGP; and contact information. The journal was so personal, he felt a little guilty for reading so much of it—but he was confident that whoever the owner was would be thrilled to have it back in their possession.

* * *

Helga was sitting on the balcony of her apartment, having a glass of brandy looking at her beautiful view of Hillwood. She enjoyed the class and culture of New York, she loved the romanticism of Paris, but something about Hillwood just made her feel amazing. Her phone vibrated, she looked down and was surprised to see a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: I think that I have your journal.

I found it on the train earlier.

She rolled her eyes and looked into her Michael Kors bag. Her iPad, laptop, large notebook and planner were all accounted for and of course, her pink journal was indeed missing.

Helga: Yes, it would seem that way.

Unknown: I can drop it off to you if you'd like.

Helga: Tomorrow, Gino's café? I'll be at the booth closest to the door.

Unknown: 9 am?

Helga: Perfect. See you then.

* * *

Arnold didn't know what to expect. He arrived at Geno's café at 8:30—not wanting to be late. He couldn't explain it but there was something very familiar about the writing. While reading the beautiful words, sketched hastily on the paper as though they were eager to get transfer the thoughts from their mind to the paper as quickly as possible, he couldn't help but to feel a sense of déjà vu. He resisted the urge to reopen the journal—he'd pried enough already.

* * *

Helga walked into Geno's café at 8:50.

"How you doing big Geno!" She called out to the heavyset, tan man with an oversized mustache who was manning the front counter.

"You having the usual!?" he called out in return.

"Of course, you know me!" She responded, sliding into the booth that had become so familiar to her. She looked up and looked into a pair of green eyes she could get lost in.

"Arnold!?" Helga exclaimed, once she saw who was across the table.

* * *

"Arnold, what on earth are you doing here in Hillwood?" Helga questioned, he almost didn't hear the question because he was so taken aback at who was sitting in front of him. Helga G. Pataki.

"Hellooooo football head?" She sang, waving her hands in front of his face to get his attention, "What are you doing in Hillwood?"

He looked across at his table mate, her eyebrows—no longer a unibrow, were now two separate eyebrows that laid frame to her large crystal blue eyes. Her blonde hair was long and wavy and fell perfectly around her face. She had an air of confidence around her, something that he didn't remember her having when he left for San Lorenzo.

"I—uh—I got a job teaching at P.S. 113. 5th grade. History." He sputtered out. For some reason his mind refused to formulate the sentences that he wanted to.

Gino dropped off a tray of food in front of Helga. A plate of French toast, a side of blueberries, and a cup of coffee, black.

"Anything for you friend of Helga?" Gino asked with a thick accent

"I'll take a cup of coffee and a fruit cup please." Arnold responded.

* * *

Helga realized that they were twenty five years old now but she still felt her heart flutter just a bit when she realized Arnold Shortman was the one that found her journal. The poet in her was quite amused. The woman in her couldn't keep her eyes off of him.

He was tan, very tan—he had either just come back from a nice vacation or he'd just moved back from San Lorenzo recently. His tanned skin made his emerald green eyes and yellow-blonde hair stand out even more. Although, he was wearing a sweater—she could tell that he definitely was pretty fit underneath of it.

"I guess the secret is out-" Helga said with a nervous laugh. "I can't believe you found my journal a second time."

A look of confusion took over Arnold's face, his eyebrows raised.

"What are you talking about Helga?" Arnold questioned. Helga couldn't tell if he was genuinely confused or if it was an act.

"Come on Arnold—you can't be that dense." Helga laughed but Arnold still looked as though there was a joke he wasn't being let in on.

"Come on—fourth grade—you found a pink book full of poetry." Helga responded, attempting to jog his memory. His eyes widened as though she was revealing brand new information.

"That was your book?" Arnold exclaimed, he remembered in fourth grade feeling slightly awkward that someone had dedicated so much poetry to him. He also remembered re-reading it at night sometimes when he couldn't fall asleep and wondering what type of beautifully tortured soul wrote all of the amazing words in his book—and just for him.

"Yes Arnold." Helga rolled her eyes, "It's still a little embarrassing—I assume you've read this journal, hopefully it's an improvement."

Arnold slid the pink journal across the table and saw a look rush over Helga's face, relief perhaps. He couldn't quite place it.

"Well, thank you so much Arnold. It was nice to see you." Helga remarked, placing a twenty dollar bill on the table and just as quickly as she came in, she was gone.

* * *

Over a week had passed since he saw Helga Pataki and for some reason he just couldn't get her out of his mind.

Arnold: Hey, it's Arnold Shortman.

Arnold bravely fired off a text as he gathered his belongings and headed for the subway.

Helga: I'm pretty sure that I didn't leave any other incriminating evidence that you need to return, so what's up?

Arnold: I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me sometime.

Helga: Sure.

Helga: When are you free?

Arnold: Tonight.

Helga had been on many dates, however she preferred to keep focused on her career—but never had someone requested a date for the same night that he asked her on. She couldn't help but answer yes.

Arnold: Chez Paris at 8:00

Helga: Sounds great!

* * *

Helga arrived at Chez Paris and Arnold was already in front of the building waiting for her. He was wearing a blue button down shirt, offering a nice contrast against his skin tone, and a nice outline of his defined muscles.

"I have something for you." Arnold mentioned as they were about to leave the restaurant. He pulled a small pink journal out of his back pocket. Helga hadn't seen it in nearly fifteen years, she was surprised that he'd kept it for so long.

"Funny thing about this journal—I had a fantasy in my mind that whoever wrote this book I would fall madly in love with." Arnold confessed. "but—I'm pretty sure that I knew who wrote it all along."

"Arnold—" Helga began to say but before any words could leave her lips, Arnold's lips fell onto hers.


	3. Can't Help Falling In Love

Title: Can't Help Falling In Love

Pairing: Gerald/Helga

Prompt: "Have you ever loved someone so much you actually ached? It sucks. Especially when it's someone you used to hate."

"Hey!"

"I said 'used to', didn't i?"

* * *

 **AN** : I wanted to write a series of love themed one-shots for Valentine's Day. I used prompts from Pinterest and tried to create a story from them. This one has been my favorite to write of the series. I've never written Gerald/Helga, but from the first time I read a pairing of these two I was hooked. Well, Happy reading, this one is a little on the longer side.

* * *

"If you had asked me growing up who I would end up with, I would've said the best friend. However, somehow, I ended up sleeping with the enemy and all of those labels just became so blurred."

* * *

Helga, Arnold, Phoebe and Gerald got on the plane together to San Lorenzo—laughing, joking having a great time, but on the return flight Arnold's presence was definitely missed. Helga knew that they went to San Lorenzo, partly for a class field trip but their main objective was to find Arnold's parents.

Arnold never once mentioned wanting to stay in San Lorenzo if they were found, until—they day before the class was set to leave.

"I love you." Arnold admitted, the words that Helga had been waiting to hear for years. He leaned in and gave her a kiss, "But this is something that I have to do."

Helga watched him walk out of sight, struggling to hold back tears. They weren't even a couple and they were just a pair of fifth grade students but she was heartbroken. She wondered if she would ever see him again.

The flight home was difficult, Helga wouldn't talk to anyone—and if she did she would respond very shortly.

"Helga—Helgaaaaa!" Gerald remarked trying to get her attention once they landed at Seattle International Airport.

"Gerald, I'm not in the mood." Helga responded, picking up her pink bag from the carousal and heading out of the airport.

"Wow!" Gerald remarked, Phoebe intertwined her arm with his.

"Don't take it personally Gerald—she's hurting." Phoebe remarked, pulling him in the direction of a different exit. Gerald hadn't noticed how hurt she was until he realized that she didn't refer to him as Geraldo or Tall Hair Boy—she referred to him simply as Gerald—and for some reason that bothered him.

* * *

"Kentucky? That's like a thousand miles away!" Gerald exclaimed, throwing himself onto his twin sized bed. He looked up at his girlfriend with sad eyes.

"Actually, it's approximately 2,200 miles, depending on your starting and ending routes." Phoebe responded, Gerald gave her an exasperated look, "But that's irrelevant."

Gerald tried to remind himself that she wasn't moving until the end of the school year and it was only April—but the two months flew by faster than he could have ever expected. Classmates went to Phoebe's house to see her off—but Gerald and Helga stayed until her car was loaded up and they were heading off. Helga gave her a hug first and they made promises to write. Gerald gave her a lingering hug, they were so close they could feel each other's hearts beating. He gave her a gentle kiss on the lips and wiped the tears that were falling down her face. He wanted to cry but he needed to be strong. He watched as she got into her car and Mr. Heyerdahl drove away. Helga looked as though she was holding back tears, he reached over and pulled her into a brief hug before they wandered off into their separate directions.

* * *

For the next few years, Gerald and Helga barely spoke to each other. Their groups of friends in elementary school had started to divide into various cliques in middle school. However, when high school rolled around—their circles began to intersect again.

Gerald joined the school football team and to his surprise, Helga joined the cheerleading squad. He never pegged Helga as the cheerleading type, but she'd been dancing since she was five so the fundamentals of cheerleading came naturally to her.

They both joined the Student Government Association and somehow both set their sights on Class Treasurer. This would begin the first of many power struggles between Helga and Gerald. Gerald scoffed when Helga was elected Treasurer over him, she won by two votes—he demanded a recount.

Next, they both joined their respective basketball teams—Gerald took great pride in seeing that every week he was the school's leading scorer and Helga Pataki was stuck in second.

The final straw was when they both joined the track team. This time they were side by side in several races. However, they had a personal competition to see who could run the fastest mile. After practice, the rest of the team had gone home but Helga and Gerald stuck around to settle the score once and for all.

"On your mark." Gerald yelled

"Get set." Helga shouted

"Go!" They cried in unison, both of them leaving the line and racing around the track. They were going at about the same speed when one of them tripped and fell into the other one.

"Great going Pataki." Gerald shouted, attempting to rub dirt out of his now skinned knee. His legs intertwined with Helga's.

"Oh no Geraldo—this is not my fault. You're the one that tripped back there running into me." Helga responded, clutching her elbow.

"I know that you hate me, but do you have to try to kill me in the process!?" Gerald's voice boomed.

"I don't hate you—I never hated you." Helga screamed in exasperation, "I might have hated your stupid tall hair but I never hated _you_."

"Bullshit." Gerald whispered and for some reason their faces were dangerously close to each other, neither one backing away. Gerald didn't know why, but he leaned in and closed the gap between them—his lips falling onto Helga's. It felt wrong but right at the same time.

"I've got to go." Gerald said, getting up and grabbing his duffle bag leaving Helga behind.

Both of them resigned from the track team the next day.

* * *

That summer, they attended many of the same parties but for some reason made special efforts to avoid each other.

When sophomore year rolled around, Gerald was once again on the football team—and Helga rejoined the cheerleading squad. Gerald of course, was dating the most popular girl in school—Rhonda Lloyd and Helga was dating a football player: Torvald Williams.

Gerald and Helga also found themselves in the same AP History class—sitting right next to each other and even though they sat only a few feet away from each other, they didn't speak to each other besides hello and goodbye until November.

Helga was caught behind Gerald as him and Rhonda shared a kiss before he walked into the classroom.

"Jeez, class is only fifty-five minutes Geraldo. I'm sure the princess will be able to manage." Helga remarked, rolling her eyes before taking her seat.

"I don't want to hear it—isn't Torvald a little old for you!?" Gerald asked, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"What does it matter!?" Helga retorted.

"I mean he's got no substance. Jeez Pataki, you're too smart to be involved with a meathead like Torvald. I mean, he's _eighteen_ in the _tenth_ grade, come on!" Gerald argued.

"Oh, you're one to talk, Geraldo. I know that you're not with Rhonda for anything other than her looks. I've heard your conversations—I don't know how you haven't died from the boredom yet." Helga grimaced.

Both relationships were over within two weeks.

* * *

James Erikson, an incoming senior, threw a massive party the summer before Gerald and Helga's junior year. Gerald saw Helga before she saw him. He was surprised at how much she had changed over the summer. Her tall, lean figure was beginning to fill out in the all the right areas. He compared her beauty to Rhonda's. Rhonda was gorgeous but she put a lot of effort into it. He looked at Helga, wearing a pair of leggings, a simple white top, and a sloppy bun on top of her head and couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Truce?" Gerald asked, handing Helga a red solo cup. She looked into his dark brown eyes and saw something in them that she had never noticed before—it gave her heart a slight flutter. She placed a hand on his toned shoulder before grabbing the red solo cup. _When did Gerald get so muscular?_ She thought to herself.

"Truce." Helga responded, "Although, I maintain that I never hated you."

* * *

Gerald had become quite popular in high school but he still didn't have a true friend he could confide in. Helga became that person for him and Helga felt the same about Gerald. Their friendship evolved into the type that talked about everything from politics to comic books and everything in between.

Before winter break Gerald started dating Nadine. She was petite and gorgeous. Her blonde ringlets perfectly emerged from her head with little effort. Helga couldn't help but to feel a pang of jealousy when they started dating.

Spring break rolled around and Helga had found herself a suitor, Lorenzo Rodriguez. He was rich, tan, and handsome—Gerald was annoyed every time Helga brought him around.

By the middle of summer, they were both single again.

* * *

Rhonda threw a huge party the week before senior year began. Gerald and Helga walked in the party together at around 10 pm.

"It's a little awkward being in here—having to look at _that_." Gerald said, motioning towards a drunken Rhonda making out with an hopefully intoxicated Harold.

"That's a sight that I wish I could erase from my eyes." Helga responded, "Let's find the bar, you know Rhonda always has the good stuff at these things."

Before they knew it, they had found their own secluded area on Rhonda's rooftop, sharing a drink from a single red solo cup, chatting about life.

"What did you ever see in Rhonda anyway?" Helga blurted out, her drinks finally catching up with her.

"She was pretty—I don't know." Gerald responded, taking a sip of the concoction they had created and passing the cup back to her. "I mean, you dated _Torvald_ —he could legally buy us alcohol now."

"He's not that old." Helga responded, "Plus, he was pretty."

The duo exploded with laughter. Her hand landed on Gerald's thigh and took another sip of the cup passing it back to Gerald, never removing her hand. Gerald looked into her eyes, becoming glossy from the intoxication. He reached over and rubbed her face gently. He thought about kissing her, but he didn't have the nerve.

* * *

Gerald looked over at Helga, sprawled out on his floor. Gerald was sprawled out next to him, propped up on his elbows looking down at the book in front of him. Helga couldn't help but to notice their arms were touching, for some reason it sent tingles down her spine.

Gerald and Helga ripped open the most important of their response letters in each other's presence, as they promised to each other they would.

Helga's eyes widened when she saw the print.

"I got in!" She exclaimed.

"Me too!" He cried out, they wrapped their arms around each other—neither one of them wanting to let go.

* * *

Graduation had come and gone and Rhonda was throwing another party. Everyone was going their separate ways, except for Helga and Gerald—who found out they were going to the same school. They grabbed a few drinks from the makeshift bar downstairs and eventually ended up back on her rooftop, it seemed to be their favorite place at her parties.

They were both laughing at some inside joke, when her head landed on his chest. She looked up at him and looked into his eyes.

"What are we doing?" Gerald questioned.

"I don't know." Helga whispered back, their faces were close. Their hearts were racing. Gerald ran his fingers through her hair and she grabbed the base of his neck and pulled him close. The kiss was gentle but eager at the same time—once it started neither one of them wanted it to end.

"Should we—head home?" Gerald asked, raising his eyebrow and Helga shook her head in agreement.

Their faces barely separated on the Uber ride home. When they arrived at Helga's house, it was empty and he carried her up to the room he now knew like it was the back of his hand. Their hands anxious to explore each other's bodies, clothes were lost as the night continued on. Until they were both naked, Gerald's body resting on top of Helga's. Gerald in the back of his mind was silently wishing that he'd never lost his virginity to Rhonda because _this_ was what he imagined his first time should have been like. Helga on the other hand was grateful that none of her past relationships had gotten to this stage. Something about giving herself to Gerald, just felt right. Natural.

Gerald Johannsen woke up next to a naked Helga G. Pataki, her body tucked into the crevices of his body. He couldn't help but to think they fit together perfectly.

* * *

"You two are such a lovely couple, how long have you been together?" A woman asked on the subway.

"It will be ten years next week." Helga responded. Wondering at where the time had gone.

"How did you two end up together?" The woman inquired. Helga had a modest diamond ring with a matching band on her left ring finger, her husband's hand was sitting comfortably on top of hers.

"Well, let's put it this way, have you ever loved someone so much you actually ached? It sucks." Helga asked, "I mean, especially when it's someone you used to _hate_." Helga asked with a teasing tone of voice, a look of confusion washed over the older woman's face.

"Hey!" Gerald chuckled at the inside joke between the two, nudging her slightly.

"I said 'used to', didn't I?" Helga giggled.


	4. Happy Valentine's Day

Title: Happy Valentine's Day

Pairing: Helga/Arnold. slight Phoebe/Gerald. Non-romantic Helga/Phoebe.

Prompt: "When my eyes meet yours I get this overwhelming emotion I can't put into words."

* * *

 **AN** : Happy Valentine's Day! I wanted to write a series of love themed one-shots in honor of Valentine's Day. I used prompts from Pinterest and tried to create a story from them. I wanted to end with a Helga/Arnold story on Valentine's Day—but the story I was writing for this didn't work out. However, I like this story. The Gerald/Helga story is still my favorite of the series though. I hope you've enjoyed this. See you next valentine's day!

* * *

"What are you doing for Valentine's day?" Gerald asked as he walked down the hallway with his best friend.

"I don't know—Valentine's Day isn't really the holiday for me." Arnold responded, he thought back to the previous Valentine's Day when he double booked himself for two dates only to discover that the girl of his dreams was anything but. As for his other date, who she actually was remained a mystery to this day.

"Come on, I'm taking Phoebe to this nice sushi restaurant. She's going to love it. They don't even have chairs there Arnold, you take your shoes off and sit on giant pillows. I can't wait." Gerald said excitedly. Arnold came back from San Lorenzo with his parents, which was exciting. However, on the girl front, Gerald came back with a girlfriend and Arnold came back with more questions than answers.

"Sounds like a fun time." Arnold admitted, before his thoughts wondered off.

"Well, there's still a week until valentine's day. Don't write the entire holiday off just yet." Gerald said before the boys entered into Mr. Packenham's classroom.

* * *

Arnold pulled down the front door of the boarding house towards him, releasing all of the animals that waited behind it. Abner's oink disappeared in the background as he closed the door behind him and dropped his book bag onto the floor of the kitchen and searched for an after school snack.

"Something got you down Shortman?" Phil asked, entering the kitchen after hearing the commotion of the animals.

"Is something wrong son?" Miles asked, placing his hand on Arnold's shoulder. "Girl troubles?"

Arnold paused and looked back at his father and grandfather with a blank look on his face.

"Let me guess-" Phil started to say.

"Grandpa, don't start." Arnold warned.

"It's your little friend with the one eyebrow, isn't it!?" Phil couldn't contain himself.

"The girl from San Lorenzo?" Miles questioned.

"Yes—okay." Arnold said plopping himself down into a seat at the kitchen table. "I don't know what to do—it's complicated."

"You're eleven years old, what could be so complicated?" Miles bluntly remarked and Phil shoved a bony elbow into his son.

"Well, do you like her?" Phil questioned, taking a seat next to his only grandson.

"Yes." Arnold responded with a low voice.

"Doesn't she like you?" Miles asked.

"Yes. Well—I don't know. She said that she did, then she said it was just the heat of the moment." Arnold admitted, he thought back to how nervous he was as she confessed her love for him. I was over the top—it was Helga. He was shocked at how often his mind went back to reminiscing about the feeling of her lips touching his.

"Why don't you tell her how you feel?" Phil suggested, "I know the advice seems simple—but simple problems call for simple solutions."

"Great Idea, what do you have to lose?" Miles reiterated.

"The remaining parts of my dignity." Arnold quipped in return.

"Ahhh, dignity is overrated anyway." Phil chuckled.

"You know what—I think I have an idea." Arnold commented before grabbing his book bag, a bag of chips and a bottle of yahoo and heading up to his bedroom.

* * *

"Aren't these decorations just lovely Helga?" Phoebe asked as they walked down the hallway towards Mr. Packenham's classroom. The hallways of P.S. 118 were decorated with red, pink, and white streamers. Heart shaped decorations were plastered everywhere.

"Yeah, I guess—if you're into all of that lovey dovey nonsense." Helga remarked bitterly.

"Well, I think it's just beautiful!" Phoebe swooned, before she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Now, Lila and Rhonda have just gone too far with this decorating nonsense. Just look at my locker Pheebs." Helga remarked before rushing up to her locker, which had shiny red streamers and a large heart shaped balloon attached to it.

"I don't think that this is there doing Helga." Phoebe remarked, pulling a note from the end of the streamers.

"Give me that." Helga said, snatching the note from her best friend's hand.

Helga—

Love is just a word until someone comes along and gives it meaning.

-Your Secret Admirer.

"What, is this some kind of a joke? When I find out who did this, they're going to answer to Betsy and the five avengers." Helga scowled, throwing the note onto the ground.

"I think it's sweet." Phoebe admitted, picking the note up from the ground. "Someone did this just for you. Who do you think it was?"

"It's probably Rhonda playing a prank on me. Real _sweet_." Helga remarked.

"This isn't her usual style Helga. Do you think this could be from—ice cream?" Phoebe whispered softly.

"No." Helga said bluntly, "Come on—lets get to class before Mr. Packenham has a conniption."

Helga made sure her best friend wasn't looking before she tucked the note into the pocket of her jeans for safe keeping, just in case.

* * *

The next morning Helga was relieved to see that there was nothing strange hanging from her locker. However, she was surprised to see everyone gathered around her desk when she strolled into the classroom.

"Ooh, Helga, someone left some purdy flowers for you." Stinky remarked from the desk next to hers.

"What are you talking about Stink-o?" Helga remarked, she walked up to her desk and saw a small arrangement of white daffodils that all had a beautiful pink center. A red envelope accompanied the flowers. Helga could feel all eyes on her as she opened the envelope.

Helga—

"As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen." – Winnie the Pooh

\- Your Secret Admirer.

"Well, what's it say?" Rhonda asked, trying to get a glimpse of the envelope that Helga was desperately trying to keep hidden. Her heart was racing. She met eyes with Arnold and they both quickly looked away. _Can't be him_. Helga told herself.

"Ms. Pataki. You can place your arrangement on the windowsill and retrieve it at the end of the day. Now class, we need to settle down and move on with our day. I know that valentine's day and love notes are on all of our minds but let's try to channel that energy…"

Mr. Packenham's voice faded into the background as Helga racked her brain with the possibilities of her secret admirer.

* * *

"Happy Valentine's day!" Phoebe shouted when Helga walked on to the bus, she handed her friend a small package.

"Happy v-day, Pheebs!" Helga responded with less enthusiasm, handing her best friend a simple white package with a small pink bow.

"Oh, I love it!" Phoebe remarked, opening her package to reveal a charm bracelet with a bff charm on it.

"Phoebe, you're too much." Helga remarked, when she opened her package to reveal two wrestlemania tickets. The girls shared a quick hug.

"So, it's valentines' day—do you think that your secret admirer will reveal himself today?" Phoebe asked, raising her eyebrows slightly above the rim of her glasses.

"Uh… I don't know. I figure, it's probably Brainy and I don't want to punch him on this day of love." Helga responded, rubbing the collar of her pink t-shirt.

When they arrived at school they saw many exchanges of gifts. Some wanted and some definitely unwanted. Curly was carrying a heart shaped giant box of chocolates, so large that he could barely see over it.

"Rhonda, darling, your valentine is here!" Curly called out from behind the box.

"Ugh." Rhonda remarked, ducking into a hallway to avoid the young suiter.

"Hey babe, you ready for tonight?" Gerald asked, walking up to Phoebe in the hallway and placing a kiss on her cheek, causing a smile to wipe across Phoebe's face and a slight blush to fill her cheeks. Helga suppressed the urge to make a vomiting face.

"I'm so excited. Our first valentine's day." Phoebe exclaimed quietly.

"What are you doing tonight?" Gerald asked Helga.

"I'll probably sit back and catch up on Gossip Girl." Helga responded with a monotone voice.

"That show has been off the air for years." Gerald remarked, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, I didn't see it—so, I guess I'll be chilling with Netflix tonight." Helga said, "Well, I'm just going to leave you two lovebirds alone."

Helga arrived at her locker and found it bare, her desk in Mr. Packenham's classroom was bare as well.

 _So much for that secret admirer_. Helga thought to herself, placing a hand on her chin and staring outside.

* * *

"So, no sign of your mystery man today?" Phoebe asked quietly as she unpacked her lunch.

"Nope." Helga responded, taking a bite of a peanut butter and banana sandwich. "I told you Pheebs, probably someone playing a joke."

"Phoebe Heyerdahl?" A voice asked approaching the table.

"Yes?" Phoebe asked meekly.

"Candy-gram." A random fourth-grade student with short blonde hair responded as she handed a single blue lollypop with a small note on it to the raven-haired girl.

"Cute." Helga remarked.

"Helga Pataki." The delivery girl questioned.

"That's me, what do _you_ want bucko?" Helga growled.

"Two for you." The girl responded, handing Helga a single pink lollipop and a bouquet of pink and white lollipops—both with notes wrapped around them.

"Uh—thank you." Helga responded.

"Well, who are those from?" Phoebe questioned eagerly. Helga unwrapped the note around the pink lollipop first.

Helga—I'm sweet on you. Love, Brainy.

Helga rolled her eyes and groaned. She turned around and saw Brainy breathing heavily behind her. She raised her fist behind her but instead of punching him she just motioned for him to go away.

"Seriously, do you see this!?" Helga exclaimed, motioning towards Brainy walking away.

"Open the next one." Phoebe pleaded.

Helga—

You're the person I'll never stop looking for in a crowded place. Meet me at Chez Pierre tonight at 8.

Your Secret Admirer

"That is so romantic." Phoebe swooned. "What are you going to wear tonight?"

"Who says I'm going to go?" Helga remarked.

"Aren't you the least bit curious on who this person could be?" Phoebe questioned.

"Yeah. Maybe." Helga responded taking another bite of her sandwich, allowing her mind to play through all of the possibilities.

Helga flipped back in forth in her mind on whether or not she wanted to go to Chez Pierre or not. Part of her was convinced that it was a cruel joke, the other half of her wondered if she did have a mysterious suiter out there who couldn't get their mind off of her. Either way, she wanted to know who was behind the secret gifts of the past three days.

* * *

She walked into Chez Pierre at 8:15, she wore a white tank top and a pink skater skirt. Her hair was down and wavy with a small braid framing her face.

"How many in your party?" The host asked when she arrived.

"I'm kinda meeting someone here. I guess." Helga said, shuffling her feet nervously in the foyer of the restaurant.

"Helga Pataki?" The host asked, causing Helga's heart to nearly beat out of her chest. "You can follow me right this way."

"I uh—I almost didn't think you were going to show." Arnold said when Helga walked up to his table. Helga sat down across from him.

"You—you sent me all of that lovey dovey stuff?" Helga asked, her mind was racing and her heart was beating faster than she knew that it could.

"Yes, I hope that you liked it." Arnold responded simply, taking a small sip of his water. He was attempting to appear cool and collected but internally he was anything but.

"But—why?" Helga questioned.

"Well—I guess because when you told me that you liked me it was right after we saved an entire neighborhood. I can't top that—but, I hope that this will still be memorable." Arnold smiled.

"What are you trying to say?" Helga gulped, her connected eyebrow arched with confusion. Arnold looked into her widened ice blue eyes and took a deep breath before responding.  
"Helga, when my eyes meet yours I get this overwhelming emotion I can't put into words. I like you Helga. I _like_ you like you. I don't know—it might even be love." Arnold answered. "You don't have to say it if you don't feel the same way—but I had to tell you."

A smile wiped across Helga's face and her eyes lowered. Arnold leaned across the table and gently grazed his hand across her face, he tilted her chin up and leaned in to place a kiss on her lips. Helga moved forward to close the gap between them when Arnold raised a finger to her lips.

"Wait." Arnold gave a sly smirk. "I don't know how you feel about me."

"Oh," Helga cleared her throat, his face still dangerously close to hers. "I like you." She whispered in a barely audible voice.

"Hmmm. Like or Like like?" Arnold teased. Helga could feel his breath tickle her lips.

"I uh—I like like you." Helga responded softly.

"mmm—I've been thinking about doing this for a very long time." Arnold whispered, before he planted a soft but eager kiss onto her lips. "happy valentine's day."


End file.
